


Five Times Lance Hated Keith, and One Time He Didn't

by quartetship



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: Sorry for the insanely long AO3 hiatus, friends. Now I'm back and more in love with Voltron than ever, so have this small fic!Enjoy, and please let me know if you like it!--





	Five Times Lance Hated Keith, and One Time He Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the insanely long AO3 hiatus, friends. Now I'm back and more in love with Voltron than ever, so have this small fic!
> 
> Enjoy, and please let me know if you like it!
> 
> \--

Less than a week had passed since placement assessments, and already Lance could hardly stand the bitter taste in his mouth every time he thought about it.

He had worked so hard. He had dreamt of space flight for so long; how could he have been relegated to a cargo pilot? The pencil in his hand quivered with the tension he placed it under as he bared down hard, and feigned listening to their professor giving an aerospace equipment safety lecture.

A few seats ahead of him, Keith Kogane sat listening as well. The guy was probably feeling smug, knowing that he'd stolen Lance’s chance at ranking as a fighter pilot. Worse yet, he hadn't even seemed excited about landing the spot, which was somehow more irritating to Lance than it would have been if Keith had paraded the fact down the halls. It was like he didn't even care, while it was all Lance could think about.

Lance gritted his teeth. The pencil in his hand finally gave way to pressure and snapped. The splintered wood knocked his fingers, but Lance didn't notice. He was too busy staring a hole through the back of Keith's head.

“I hate you,” he seethed under his breath. Keith didn't respond, didn't even hear him. Lance swallowed his anger and pride, and pulled out a new pencil with which to take notes.

Final assignments hadn't been made yet. There was still time to work his way up. Keith be damned.

\--

It had not yet been three days, and already Lance could tell that sharing a team - and living space - with Keith again was going to grate on him.

Of course it had been Keith who led them into this mess. Of course it had been Keith who got them launched into space. _Of course_ it had been.

Exhausted, confused, sore and missing his family, Lance tried hard not to Lash out at Pidge and Hunk, who were just as clueless as he was about the fact that they were apparently destined to be space heroes. Shiro didn't deserve it either; the guy had already been through so much. Keith, however? Lance loosed his rage in Keith's direction whenever he felt the urge.

On the training floor, in the control room, at the dinner table after a snide remark - there was nowhere Lance wasn't prepared to tell Keith just how horrible he thought he was. From his bad haircut to his ugly-ass jacket, Keith was a walking invitation for an insult, and Lance was always quick to RSVP.

“I hate you!” he barked at Keith after yet another argument, Shiro holding them both back from one another. Keith all but growled at him, and Lance’s stomach felt sour. He had to save the universe somehow, with this asshole as a teammate.

There was just no way this was going to end well.

\--

Missions became more routine, after a while.

Of course, Lance never truly got used to the spectacular sights they saw on the myriad alien planets they visited. Their work there became more understandable to him as their job as universal heroes came into sharper focus. That, and Lance was improving, as well.

His reaction time was shorter. His reflexes were sharper. He took fewer blows, and missed fewer shots. Every day, he could feel himself getting better at things he would have never imagined himself doing in the first place, only months before. The fact that he could feel more muscle in his arms, his chest, his legs, and more space in his clothes didn't hurt, either. He was in better shape and looking better than ever, minus a massive explosion scar on his back.

But hey, he wagered that girls loved battle scars, so that was probably an asset, too.

Of course, Lance wasn't the only one improving in multiple ways. Hunk had gotten stronger, and Pidge even sharper, if either of those things were humanly possible. Shiro's memory was returning by the day, and he was becoming a better and more intuitive leader. And Keith?

Lance sighed. Keith was better than ever, as well. Handier with his bayard than any of the others and with some kind of strange connection to the alien life they encountered so frequently, Keith was a natural paladin. Of course.

Not that Lance had expected anything different. As they sat beside one another after a training session, he tapped his juice pouch against Hunk’s, then Pidge’s, and finally offered it out to do the same with Keith. Keith had been rubbing his face with his shirt, giving everyone who cared to look an eye full of abs so defined they might as well have been cast from steel. Lance shook his head as Keith let go of his shirt and finally tapped his drink against Lance’s own.

“I hate you,” Lance said, but there was no venom behind it. Keith looked him in the eye like he might be debating whether or not to let the comment spark a fight, but then elected not to. He pulled his shirt up again, this time tucking the hem over and behind his head, so that his entire sweaty, stupidly-toned stomach and chest were on display.

Lance snorted with laughter, despite himself.

\--

It was a few weeks shy of Lance's eighteenth birthday when he finally decided he needed to talk to Keith.

They had talked before, of course. All that time in space, almost dying daily gave them a lot of things to talk about. Somehow though, they had avoided discussing the fact that things had become very, very different between them.

Keith still annoyed him. The particulars were different, though. Instead of wishing he could be Keith, Lance found himself wishing he could be beside Keith, on missions, at the dinner table, even in his _bed_ when he let his mind wander too much. He had come to really miss Keith's presence when he didn't have it, to crave Keith's rare and elusive laughter and to long for time alone with him when it was the subject of his worst nightmares, just a year before.

Everything was different, and they needed to talk about it.

It wasn't easy. Lance wasn't sure why he thought it would be. Getting Keith away from the training room and Shiro and literally anything and everything else that kept capturing his attention wasn't easy. When he finally managed it, Keith was tired, distracted and grouchy, and it didn't make conversation easy. Lance’s patience was fragile and thin, and it broke within minutes.

“Will you stop? I brought you up here to talk about how much I like you, but you're making me rethink that decision.”

Keith did stop. He closed his lips, pursed them as his eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed those eyes again at Lance. “You like me?”

Lance blinked, realizing what he had said and how. “I… Well, yeah. I mean. I like you more than I used to. Obviously. I don't hate you.”

Nodding, Keith didn't break eye contact. “You like me, though?”

“Yeah, I just said that,” Lance said impatiently. “Like. You know, you've gotten way less annoying, I guess? And I actually kind of… really like when we do stuff together, so like. Yeah. I just wanted to know what you thought, or if you felt that way too, or whatever.”

Keith watched him for another long, silent moment, beginning to grin. “Right. Okay. So… You like me.”

“YES!” Lance snapped, tugging at his own hair. “Yes, I like you, okay? I like you and I wanna spend time with you, but not with the others too, just you and me, like I like you _that_ way, I guess, okay? Alright?! Good enough for you, mullet?!”

With that, Lance nearly collapsed backward on the couch where they sat, seated in front of the giant observatory windows on one of the castle’s upper floors. Glancing out into the darkness of space, he silently wished it would swallow him and his creeping embarrassment. Before he could make a run from the room to hide his reddening face, though, he was rewarded with the ring of Keith's laughter, a now familiar and favorite sound.

Lance sat up to see Keith smiling.

“Good enough, yeah,” Keith said. He offered Lance a hand and pulled him back upright, not letting go after Lance was properly seated again. He raised Lance's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, and the shock of seeing Keith of all people do something so sweet caught Lance so off guard he was left speechless. Keith laughed again, and Lance's heart leapt.

“And for what it's worth, the feeling’s mutual,” Keith said, and when Lance all but launched himself forward to press his own lips against Keith's, he could feel Keith’s laughter in his mouth before he could hear it. Lance pulled back again, breathless and rolling his eyes, utterly annoyed and entirely smitten.

“I hate you,” he groaned, and Keith nodded before pulling him forward again by his jacket sleeves.

“I'm sure.”

\--

The most dangerous mission yet was on the near horizon, and Lance wondered if he would ever feel ready.

It was easy in the moment, in the heat of battle, to feel like you would welcome death like a hero. It was harder to think of it as something positive when you actually had something to live for, and that something was lying beside you in a warm, comfortable bed.

Lance sighed and pulled Keith closer.

“What's wrong?” Keith mumbled. Lance frowned. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't even want Keith to know something was bothering him. So much for that.

“S’nothing,” he said, pressing his lips against the soft, messy hair at Keith's temple. Keith turned in his arms to look at him properly.

“No. I'm not stupid, Lance. Tell me.” His eyes were focused now, awake and determined, but not angry. Even in the low light of their shared room, there was a brightness to them, a gleam that made Lance weak. He swallowed and shrugged.

“Just scared, I guess. About what we're getting ready to do.” He sighed, thumbing at Keith's jaw. Keith leaned into his touch as Lance chuckled. “Not that you'd know what that's like.”

“I wouldn't,” Keith said plainly, and Lance was taken aback by his confidence. Keith didn't look away, only raised his own hands to take gentle hold of Lance's face. “I'm not scared to fight them. Any of them. They threaten everything that's good, and for me that means you guys. All of you. My family. My… You.” Keith bit his lips together for a moment, like he was considering something. The moment passed, and the look of absolute self-assurance returned. “I'm not willing to risk those things. So I'm happy to fight for them.”

“But what if you lose them anyway?!” Lance demanded, perhaps a little too loudly. Keith drew back a bit, but Lance clung to him. “What if some of the things you love most are out there fighting with you? What happens if you lose them that way? What then?” Tears had formed at the corner of his eyes; he did not notice them until Keith reached out to wipe them away as they finally fell.

“I don't know,” Keith admitted. “I… I hope I never have to know. But whatever happens, as long as we're both here, I'm gonna fight for you. For all of you. For this.” He bumped his nose against Lance's, more of a question than anything. Lance answered by taking hold of him and pulling Keith on top of him as he rolled onto his back.

“I don't want us to have to fight for each other,” Lance admitted, looking up at Keith. His chest was heavy, but not from the weight atop him. He swallowed the need to pull Keith back down as he moved to sit astride of Lance's hips.

“We won't always have to,” Keith promised, though they both knew they couldn't be sure of that. Lance accepted it anyway, nodding as he let Keith lace their fingers together for a moment before plucking at the buttons at the catch of his jeans. It was a promise he held tightly to as Keith rocked against him, a guarantee he clung to when Keith was tight around him, while his name was falling from Keith's lips like a chanted prayer. Perhaps it was. Perhaps, as they found momentary release from their worries together, Keith was cherishing their time as one as much as Lance was.

Perhaps things would be fine, or perhaps it was their last night like this, wrapped in nothing but each other's arms. Regardless, Lance found himself unable to cry. He was too glad for the weight of Keith in his arms, for the slowing beat of Keith's heart and the settling rhythm of his breath as they welcomed sleep together.

Just before he closed his eyes for the night, Keith bumped his nose against Lance’s jaw, catching his attention.

“It'll be okay,” he promised. “It has to be.”

Lance nodded, ready for those to be their last words to one another for the night. Then, quieter, Keith made a sound like muffled laughter and added, “Because if anyone else dies or goes missing, Coran will have to lead Voltron.”

Lance groaned, pushing at Keith like he might throw him off the bed. Keith only laughed harder as Lance blew a raspberry against the side of his face and sighed, nothing but affection in his tone, “I hate you.”

\--

The sun of another planet is setting in its alien sky. Beyond where Lance sits, there is a barren horizon, plumes of smoke illuminated by the fiery hues of the star sinking out of view. Of course the sky would be red. As if it could be any other color, now.

In his arms, Keith coughs, rasping a breath. He squeezes weakly at Lance's arms, holding him.

“You're gonna be okay,” Lance promises, but it's more to fill the silence than anything. Keith most certainly does not look like he will be okay, but Lance can't face that particular reality right now. Instead, he focuses on the way the light of the setting sun brightens Keith's beautiful, broken smile.

“You're a terrible liar,” Keith says through that smile, teeth gritted as he forces words out despite his pain. He's bleeding badly from his torso. Lance presses a piece of cloth-like material over the wound, holding it in place steadily.

“And you're a piece of shit if you leave me here without you,” he spits, and the tears finally break loose and fall. Keith isn't strong enough to wipe them away this time, but he does quietly shush Lance and lean into his arms.

“You don't need me for anything,” he jokes. Lance can't bring himself to find it funny.

“Maybe not. But I want you. For everything. And that's even worse.”

Keith laughs, strained and obviously painful. Lance knows there isn't much time left. He gathers Keith closer and swallows hard.

“I love you,” he says, wishing the first time the words crossed his lips formally could have been anywhere, any time other than this. “I love you and my life will never be the same, now that I have.” He doesn't wait for Keith to reply. He holds him close and gingerly presses their lips together, sighing as Keith's mouth falls open against his and wincing at the taste of blood. It could very well be their last moment together, their last kiss, and Lance lingers in it for as long as he can.

When he finally pulls back, Keith's eyes go wide, and Lance almost welcomes the thought that an enemy ship might be hovering above them. When he looks up though, it's the blue lion, and she scoops both of them up in a flurry of movement.

Still clinging to a now motionless Keith, Lance looks out from where he sits on the floor of his lion’s cockpit, only to see the planet they were just on implode into nothingness. The shock of the day overcomes him, and he feels lightheaded. Before he loses consciousness, there is a familiar, comforting voice in his head, the reassurance of the blue lion.

_He has a pulse. He's alive. You both are. Rest._

The universe fades from view and Lance sleeps, for how long he doesn't know.

When he awakens, the quiet beeping and soft, blue lights of the medical bay welcome him back. Upon regaining his bearings, his first thought is of Keith. He stumbles from the healing pod and looks around, seeing all of the others empty.

Then he hears a soft, familiar laugh.

“You wake up from a nightmare?” Keith asks, standing in the hallway that leads out of the bay, watching him. Lance swallows, nodding furiously.

“One where I lost your irritating ass, yeah.” There is no time for vitriol to settle in his tone. He and Keith meet each other halfway, settling against the back of one of the unused pods to kiss until they can finally believe the other is alive and real. Lance pulls Keith hard against him and buries his face in soft, dark hair, inhaling the moment.

“That was the worst mission I've been a part of, hands down, by far,” he mutters into Keith's shoulder. Keith rubs his back in long, soothing strokes and nods.

“Likewise. Can't wait to do it again next week.”

At that, Lance pokes him hard in the side, scowling at him as he draws back to look him over. God he's beautiful. And annoying.

“I hate you,” he sighs, hands still on whatever part of Keith they can reach. Keith nods, a sharp grin pulling at his lips.

“I love you, too,” he says, and tugs Lance down for another unhurried kiss. This time, Lance hums his satisfaction, never aware he could feel more alive than he does in this moment.

They will have to catch up with and talk to the others soon, just to find out everything that happened while they were healing. For now, though, Lance is more than happy to enjoy a few stolen minutes of time with his favorite person in the universe, the only person he is happy to fight for and alongside.

He is happy, just to be with Keith.


End file.
